


Mirrors

by Dark_and_night



Category: The Boy (2016 Bell)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-16 12:26:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21507916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_and_night/pseuds/Dark_and_night
Summary: Brahms isn't happy when he realizes that you're insecure in your appearance.
Relationships: Brahms Heelshire/Reader, Brahms Heelshire/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 116





	Mirrors

Groaning loudly, Brahms threw down the rag. Why was it still so freaking streaky?  


Brahms was on a mission to clean all of the mirrors in the house, and cleaning them was a lot harder than he thought it would be. How were there always streaks no matter how hard he scrubbed them?  


He had noticed that whenever you looked in the mirror, you would frown. Brahms couldn’t figure out why, until he realized; you must be upset by how dirty they were! That was the only logical explanation!  


Brahms wanted to surprise you with the clean mirrors, but it was taking way to long, and without realizing it, he had started cussing. A little loudly.  


You popped your head out into the bathroom, concern plain on your face. “Everything…okay?” You asked.  


Brahms looked up at you before he let his head hang in defeat. “I’m sorry. I was trying to clean the mirror.”  


Smiling in relief that he wasn’t doing something weird in the bathroom, you pat his back. “Thank you, Brahmsy. Why did you want to do that?”  


“Because I noticed you were upset.” He admitted, sitting on the bathroom counter and wrapping his arms around you.  


You frowned slightly in confusion. “I wasn’t upset about the mirrors.”  


Brahms tilted his head. “Then why do you look angry when you look at the mirrors?”  


Sighing, you rested your head on his chest. “I don’t…”  


Brahms frowned, gently tilting your head up to look at him. “Love, tell me what’s going on.”  


“I just…don’t like how I look.” You finally admitted. “So I don’t like looking in the mirror very much.”  


Brahms blinked. “That doesn’t make any sense?”  


That made you snort. “What?” You retorted.  


“That doesn’t make any sense!” Brahms insisted, pulling you tighter. “You’re the most beautiful and wonderful and stunning person in the whole world!”  


You laughed and shook your head, pulling back. “No way.”  


Brahms picked you up, taking you into the bedroom and spinning you around. “A goddess! Perfection!”  


Shrieking in laughter, you clung to his neck. “Brahms! Cut it out!”  


Brahms gently threw you onto the bed before climbing over you, grinning behind his mask as he watched you laugh. “You’re my love, you are something to be admired, celebrated, worshiped. I won’t stop until you love yourself.”  


As your giggling died down, you brought your hand up, gently touching his mask. “It’s not that simple, Brahms.”  


“I’m not going to stop.” Brahms insisted, taking your hand and bringing it to his porcelain lips. “I’ll never stop.”  


Chuckling, you brushed past him. “I’m going to make dinner. Wash your hands, you smell like Windex.”  


Brahms watched you go, admiring how your legs moved, and tracing every curve with his eyes, wanting to drink in the sight of you.  


He washed his hands before going to the kitchen, watching you cook. He loved how you moved. He loved your expressions when you focused on the task at hand.  


When he was sure your attention was elsewhere, Brahms walked up behind you and hugged you to his chest. You were used to this, and ignored him as you continued cooking. That is, until he started running his hands up your chest, touching and tracing everything he could get his hands on.  


It was almost ticklish. “Brahmsyyyy!” You giggled, trying not to squirm.  


“Your smile is so beautiful.” Brahms mumbled into your ear. “And your body is amazing.”  


You rolled your eyes, trying to shrug him off. “Come on, not now.”  


“Always, all the time, forever.” Brahms smirked, groping your ass, making you jump.  


“Brahms!” You slapped his hand away. “Sit in your chair, it’s almost ready.”  


Brahms slunk back into his seat, watching you. You could feel his eyes on you, and it made you blush, and it made your chest ache in a good way. You realized it was the same kind of ache you hadn’t felt since your last high school crush. Pressing your lips together to keep from smiling, you dished up the food.  


All through dinner Brahms played footsie with you, and the schoolgirl crush feeling kept spreading in your chest. You wouldn’t admit it, but your face was red.  


When it was finally time for bed and the two of you were safely under the covers, Brahms wrapped his limbs around you, hands groping and grasping every part of you he could reach.  


“Brahms, please.” You put your face in your hands, feeling how hot your cheeks where. “You’re embarrassing me!”  


Brahms gently lifted himself over you, his dark eyes roaming your face as you peeked at him through your fingers.  


“I have to do this.” He whispered, his low voice making goosebumps appear on your skin.  


“Why?” You asked, folding your hands over your chest.  


“Because I’m going to love you twice as much, every single day, for the rest of my life if I have to.” Brahms replied, running a finger down your neck and to your collar bone, making you shiver. “Starting tonight.”  


“Starting tonight?” You repeated quietly.  


Brahms took a hold of your wrist, pulling your hand away from your chest so you were no longer covering yourself. Even though you were wearing pajamas, you felt naked as he looked down at you.  


He nodded. “I’m not going to stop until you know I love every single part of you, and when you love yourself too.”  


You reached up, pushing his cardigan off his shoulders. “Oh?”  


Brahms shrugged out of his jacket, letting it fall next to the bed, still drinking in your body beneath him. The pang in your chest turned into fire when his arm muscles flexed, his breathing speeding up as he brought his face close to yours. “It’s a promise.”


End file.
